Retirement
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Rachel Bailey is bored. She has worked hard to attain her position as a copper, sacrificed friends, family, other opportunities...and now she is being dragged down by the politics in the police. After a particularly stressful case, Rachel is debating whether she should leave, and her mind conjures up old friends long since gone.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - I don't own Scott & Bailey. While I am sad the series has ended, I think that it had a good run and Sally Wainright and ITV had the realistic approach, unlike other TV people and writers who tend to bleed the stories dry until the actors and actresses and the producers and directors are bored witless with the endless plots that are used and reused without imagination.

Author's note - It's been a while, hasn't it? I am sorry to say I've almost lost the urge to write more Scott and Bailey, but then I came up with this plotline. I hope you enjoy it. Please drop a review and leave some feedback, cheers.

Should I, shouldn't I?

Rachel was tired, and she sagged with relief when she pulled her car into the drive of her flat. It was nearly 3 in the morning when she got home from work. She stumbled into her flat, where she tripped up and almost crashed to the ground.

"Fucking hell!" she hissed, but he managed to stop herself from falling to the ground in time. Her long dark hair fell past her head and the tips touched the floor, and she stood up, groaning at the sensation in her body that felt as though it were shutting down, but she knew it was just her exhaustion.

Dumping her coat and bag in the hallway, Rachel locked the door - it had been years since Stephanie, her daughter, had moved out and gotten a flat of her own, so fortunately she didn't need to worry about waking her up like she had in the past. The thought of Stephanie made her heart clench, and she wondered if either Gill or Janet had felt this when they'd raised their own kids. While Taisie, Elise and Sammy had become amazing people in their own rights, Rachel knew that growing up with one of their parents, or both of them in Sammy's case even if one of them had wandering eyes and a wandering penis, had been rough for them at first. When her daughter had been born after that mess with that online murder game where people were slaughtered for nothing else but others sick amusement, Rachel had sworn to be there for her daughter, but over the years there had been a rift between her and Stephanie. When she'd been younger, such a rift would've hurt her at first, but her natural gutsiness and her ambitious demeanour had helped her push it aside, but now Rachel was older and more experienced, those events made her incredibly reflective and upset.

Rachel checked the time, pushing the thought of Stephanie out of her mind, cursing and groaning before rubbing her eyes. She had hoped to have a bath to soothe her sore and aching muscles, have a meal or something - she didn't want anymore of her nights spent sleeping in front of the telly with a bowl coated with the remains of weetabix lying on the coffee table. Unfortunately, she had finished so tired tonight that she was too tired to do any of those things.

After stripping out of her clothes, Rachel wrapped herself in her dressing gown and headed for the bathroom so she could have a shower. She wasn't going to bother with a bath, or a meal come to that - she was so fucking tired. As she rubbed Radox over herself and letting the piping hot water soothe her aching muscles, Rachel sighed with relief, looking forwards to just going to bed.

The latest case she'd dealt with had been a disaster. Paula Lewis had almost walked because of the fucking idiots that were higher up had decided that the case should be rushed, Rachel had been in the Job long enough and she'd been a Detective Inspector and later a Detective Chief Inspector long enough to have some idea and understanding of the politics that coated and clogged the police force in the same way that resembled the lungs of chain smoker who got through three packets of fags in a day.

Politics.

Rachel grimaced at the word, feeling herself becoming more exhausted after having days of it in a never-ending surge, and she was left wondering when policing became less and less about catching criminals and stopping things like drugs and terrorism and became more about parading an army of smartly dressed men and women wearing caps and black and white uniforms down the street with their uniforms so bright they reflected in the bright sun. She closed her eyes, wondering how Janet, Gill and Julie would have taken it, and she bit her lip as she remembered how, one by one they'd died. Now she was alone - Anna might have been nice and a good copper, but it had taken Rachel a while to get to know her properly, and once again Janet had been right, as she usually had been, but Anna had not been part of the quartet that had consisted of her, Janet, Julie and Gill.

Rachel wondered if Anna was as pissed off as she was with how policing had become, but she wasn't sure if it was worth contacting her to find out for herself. Paula Lewis was another in a growing number of cases where the higher ups were putting pressure on SIOs to get the cases solved and made to look nice and lily white. Rachel wondered if being promoted higher than DSI meant people started losing their brains, all they needed was a smart uniform and polished buttons, and then their brains seemingly turned to mush. But they should not have pushed the Paula Lewis case. It had been delicate enough as it was without their meddling. Quite a few people had died, dozens of families had been bereaved and hurt, tortured by the knowledge their loved ones - brothers, sisters, wives, husbands, daughters, sons, etc had been caught by Paula. Unlike other killers, Paula didn't give a monkeys about race, age, creed or colour. All she cared about was her 'masterpieces'. That was what had made her so vicious and savage.

Rachel closed he eyes and shook her head as she remembered the numerous bodies that had been stacked up during the murder spree. Paula Lewis had been a brilliant, but psychopathic art student attending the University of Manchester. The teenager had started murdering people, arranging the bodies so then they resembled gruesome portraits and living sculptures.

Rachel shuddered - it wasn't often she was afraid or even affected by the types of things she had seen over the years of her career, but the bodies with metal spikes holding them up by having the metal driven right through their limbs, rings of metal welded around the arms, legs and torsos only for the twisted bitch to douse them in petrol and set them on fire, even Rachel had felt sick. But the vats of acid where the victims flesh was melted off, leaving the skeletons behind were worse. Rachel hated it when acid was involved.

All of it was done to provoke a reaction from the general public, so in a way Rachel could very well understand the appeal behind getting rid of the bitch, but such an investigation would be needed to be done properly. No rushing. No politics. Unfortunately, Rachel was the only person it seemed to know about this.

It had taken them a while to find out it was Paula of course. No investigation was that simple except on some occasions. It took time and lot of persistence to get some idea of who the murderer was, but once Paula was identified Rachel had investigated her closely, prepared to move onto another suspect if they presented themselves. The girl had gotten cocky. As Gill had so often said, they might be smart at first, but eventually had become cocky and overconfident, and Paula had, for all of her brilliance, made the mistake of asking for metal from a number of scrapyards dotted around Manchester, and had them delivered to a garage she owned. One of the companies had recognised and identified the metal, and phoned it in, even supplying the police with the details of the address.

The moment Rachel had walked inside the garage and saw it for herself she knew without a doubt this was the place where the murders were taking place. The place was cross between an old fashioned abattoir and an artists' studio. There were canvases coated with the varnished remains of human flesh, with puddles of dried and black blood everywhere, and there were blowtorches and soldiering irons littered everywhere. The garage was in a fairly busy part of town - if you wanted to hide something, the best place to hide it would be in plain sight, and with the hustle and bustle of the city and the blood soaked rags Paula had used for gags, it was easy to hide what was going on. When Rachel had seen the gags for herself, she could understand why no-one had actually heard the screams, the loudness of what was happening outside made it impossible to hear a scream or a gasp.

The demands to get Paula locked up had been loud and clear, Rachel mused to herself as she towelled herself dry. After that she washed her teeth and cleaned her face of makeup before turning off the lights and climbing into bed, thoughts of the latest case still clear in her head, and she hoped that she would at least get some peace for tonight before morning.

When the higher ups demanded for Paula to be convicted and imprisoned, Rachel had dug her heels in - she had learnt over the years that sometimes if you wanted to get the right result then you needed to really work for it. The crime scene in the garage alone provided the police with more than enough, and they had even found photographs Paula had taken, depicting that the original number of people was not entirely accurate. Rachel sighed in her bed, the sound hoarse in her bedroom. The police and the public had originally believed there were 6 bodies, that was bad enough, but when they'd done their research in the garage, they found it there weren't six victims.

There were 12.

Finding the other 6 hadn't been easy - it had taken a lot of time, and Rachel's team had needed clock in a lot of hours of searching, cross-checking, and hunting any more bits of information to add to the case. They managed to find the remains of the victims, each one of them the pieces of art cooked up by Paula's twisted brain. The higher ups wanted Paula charged regardless of how the investigation was going, but Rachel had stalled, and it had caused more than a few headaches, and so Rachel had spent as much time fucking around with them than she had with her office.

It had taken days before Paula had finally cracked. For all her cockiness and her confidence, she wasn't that strong willed. It hadn't taken long for her to crack, and when it happened, Rachel had nearly jumped in the air with glee. It had taken only a couple of weeks and so much work, and Rachel had gotten the interviewers of her team to work on all possibilities, and deepen the cracks for more information.

But the higher ups had taken that breakthrough and they had milked it for all it was worth, and they'd ordered her more and more to push through with the arrest. They hadn't seemed to have given a flying fuck about the amount of information the bitch had. The result was while they'd had had plenty of breakthroughs and the case was cracking, it simply wasn't ready yet to hand over to the CPS. If there was one thing she had learnt during her time with Gill and Julie, sometimes you needed to work harder and longer to make a case stick.

Paula had nearly walked because when they'd taken the case to the CPS, some of them had pointed out that there wasn't enough pieces of info here and there, something that had galled Rachel, who had been a DCI for a long time, a great deal. But Rachel had managed to get her in, and today she had just been convicted of multiple counts of manslaughter and mutilation.

Rachel wanted to sleep, she just wanted to forget work, lie down and not dream. She just wanted to close her eyes, sink her head down into the pillow and just sleep. But she simply couldn't sleep, her brain was still whirling with the misery and the stress of the day, the trial and the conviction of Paula Lewis, having to listen and speak to the idiots in those uniforms who wanted to look nice rather than to look like coppers who spent their time doing things right.

Nowadays the very act of just getting a conviction made things worth it in Rachel's mind, but the thought did depress her. These days, just being a police officer was simply not enjoyable. Rather it had become depressing.

Most of the time, no one really knew for sure whether or not the investigations would hit snags that were hard to clear up. It always reminded Rachel of the mess that came out of her first case as an Acting DI. At the time she had done what she'd thought Gill would have done, but she had been so furious with Pete and Mitch, the former because he seemed to be determined to make her time as SIO a misery, and the latter for losing his case book and not telling her right away. If he had then maybe Mitch may not have died, and that was one of the issues that had caused her problems.

Rachel remembered how determined she had been just to move back down to London. She had loved it there, loved the hustle and bustle, the chaos, the opportunities that such a large city had that Manchester simply lacked. But it had all worked out - she had had her baby, a little girl she called Stephanie, a job, and soon she became a full DI. Over time she spent all her time working hard, learning how to be a good leader and detective, and it had led to her current position as DCI.

But it was no longer fun. It had become tedious, and as more time passed Rachel wondered why she bothered trying to put scum behind bars when so many seemed to conspire to put them back on the streets. Okay, so there were perhaps logical reasons, but often Rachel thought they deserved being put into prison if the cases were investigated properly.

* * *

Rachel rolled over, sighing and groaning as her body caught the sheets and duvet, wishing for her mind to simply shut down so she could get some kip. All policing did nowadays was remind her of how good things had once been. As a PC and then a DC, she hadn't had to worry about the politics and just left it all to the SIO unlucky enough to be landed the job and had to shoulder the blame when things went wrong. Now she was a DCI herself, she now wished she had seen for herself what kind of problems SIOs like Gill and Julie had to deal with during every case.

When Rachel first became a full DI, she had worked her socks off to try to build her repertoire up, but now she felt so tired with everything. It was like climbing a mountain with the hope of seeing what was at the top of it only to discover there was nothing special up at there at all. It was depressing. She was tired with the politics of the Met. She was tired of the higher ups showing more and more interest in her cases, in meddling with the investigations to the point where she doubted if anyone would be convicted.

Suddenly Rachel sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. A thought had just popped inside her mind, one even she couldn't believe.

"Should I pack it in?" she whispered to herself, wishing that Janet was still alive, or even Julie or Gill, or any of the retired coppers she'd encountered over the years, so she could get some advice from them. "I can't leave," she added to herself, her mind overtaken by the sudden thoughts about her colleagues, her team, the cases that wouldn't solve themselves.

"Well you can't stay around for ever."

Rachel looked up. Standing there was Gill, dressed in the classic suit, short crisp hair with neat and pressed suit. "I belong in the police, Gill," she whispered. She wasn't really surprised the rational part of her brain, the part that told her staying in the police was a bad idea would conjure up this woman. "What's this, every hour I'm going to be visited by you, Julie and Janet like Scrooge with the ghosts?"

Gill snorted. "Maybe," she replied, "but do you remember Rachel, when you asked me why I had to leave? I was tired of the Job after Helen Bartlett. But I had been tired of it all long before that, I was just able to able to handle it better. I'd always pictured myself leaving a good five-six years after that horrible year, but the stress with the sessions with the shrinks after Helen kidnapped me got me down."

Rachel looked down as she remembered that horrible time. No, that had not been a good year for her either, and she had to stop the flood of self loathing as she remembered what she'd done to Sean during that year along with that mess with Dom.

But Gill's ghost wasn't finished yet - Rachel was unsure if Gill was a ghost or if she was something that her own mind had conjured up to talk some sense into her - and Rachel wasn't surprised. "I'm proud of you, kid," Gill said. "I am proud of how well you've done; granted, you fucked up here and there, but that happens. I fucked up myself occasionally. Your problem is you're afraid to leave, you're comfortable. Never get comfortable, Rachel."

"Do you think I should leave?" Rachel whispered, while it was good having her 'inner Gill' speak to her after all this time, she just wanted a straight forward opinion.

Gill shrugged. "It's up to you, Rachel. I'm not going to tell you how to live your life," she replied. "But I can tell you straightaway that your latest case is a sign that the police are going downhill. Maybe there are coppers being trained who'll be able to adapt, but you're not the type of copper to immerse yourself into politics. You know that. You're the type of copper who likes being on the frontline. I knew you were going places, but I knew you'd never become Assistant Chief Con anytime soon. I couldn't picture you acting like bloody Theresa May. It's not you. This is the latest example of you not being able to cope with those boring idiots who have turned the police into a laughing stock."

Rachel nodded, her head swimming with fatigue.

"If you stay in the police then you might not be able to cope mentally, and I don't want that to happen. We both know you can't let this go on, maybe it's time for you to leave. But give it time, solve a few more cases and see if you can still do it."

Rachel thought that made sense rather than just making some rapid decision. "I miss you Gill."

"I miss you too, kid," Gill grinned back.

'Bye, Godzilla," Rachel smirked.

Gill laughed.

* * *

Ciao until next time. Most of the scene with Gill Murray was inspired by the season 10 episode of New Tricks, The One that Got Away. In that episode Sandra Pullman was offered a job catching Nazi war criminals, but she was reluctant since her time in UCOS had been exciting and rewarding to her. At the beginning, however, she'd resented it because she was given the task of solving crimes that had been closed off and unsolved, and given the help of elderly and retired coppers for a team. However, Sandra came to enjoy her work.

In the scene, the ghost of Jack Halford, her old boss who'd trained her and died in season 9 of Liver cancer, came to her and talked her round. That scene inspired me to write the ghost scene with Gill. Hope you enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 2 Announcements

Disclaimer - Don't own Scott & Bailey, just this story.

Feedback - is always appreciated.

Announcements.

A few days later, Rachel was sitting in her office, feeling numb, but somewhat happy like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders - she couldn't help but wonder if this was similar to what Gill, Julie, Janet and all the other coppers had felt before her when they'd announced their intentions to retire from the police. In keeping with police procedural rules, she had alerted the higher ups about her intention, but she had to inform her team - some of them might have already been told through their contacts, especially Jessica, her DS.

Rachel knew the team would be okay without her - she wouldn't have bothered selecting them if they weren't capable of standing on their own two feet, and ever since that day she had been promoted to full Detective Inspector after that mess with the Dark web she had been very selective, wanting the best and the brightest as part of her team. Jessica, especially, would be a brilliant SIO one day. She was a copper of her generation, like Rachel had been of her own generation.

Jessica would find it easy to adapt and Rachel wished she did well - she had become a genuine mentor when Anna had been distressed; the other female detective had annoyed Rachel beyond belief at first, but the woman had become endearing, and now they shared a friendship of sorts, and she had grown into the role of mentor as time went on. Even now, years later, Rachel looked back on herself at the time, and she cringed at how arrogant and stuck up she had behaved in those days; she had tried her level best to run the syndicate and channel Gill it hadn't occurred to her until much later she should have been herself, and in that time her friendships with some of the syndicate had become strained, but she had been so frustrated by the pressure and the stupid 'God-zooky' nickname dished up to her that she had almost hit the wall. Her pregnancy hadn't helped her mood anymore than her sister's presence in her flat had.

But she had worked it all out when she had discovered you couldn't be taught how to command. You could learn the theories and practice, but you needed to experience it for yourself. In her career since, she had trained dozens of officers in the hopes of becoming SIOs and Detective Sergeants, and as she sat in her office with one eye on the others as they milled around the office, eating snacks and drinking tea or coffee, chatting. They'd just finished a case, not as high profile as their last one, but then you never knew when you received a case. It was just a routine one and nothing to write home about, but Rachel no longer really cared. At first she'd imagined that after she'd made her decision to leave the police she'd change her mind again, but she hadn't. Her decision had kind of liberated her.

The ghost of Gill was right, Rachel decided.

Her supervisor was surprised when she had gone to him three days into the case and told him she wanted to retire, but there was little he could do besides try to talk her out of it. He did try, of course. But he knew she had good grounds to retire, she had been in the Job for a long time, so it made sense that she had had enough of it by now.

After Rachel had told her line supervisor, she knew she'd have to tell her team. She'd decided to do much like Gill had done, only much more quickly. She wasn't going to stress herself out by taking on a few more cases than was necessary, she'd just take on a few to draw a line under her career so she could move on. Although she tried not to, Rachel couldn't help but think about the type of life she could have out of the police.

"Boss, you okay?"

Rachel looked up and smiled at Jessica, doing her best not to react to the other woman's appearance. "Yeah, fine, thanks Jess. Everything okay?"

Jessica nodded. "Yeah, we're about to head off to the pub, have a few drinks. You coming?"

Rachel chuckled. "When do I say no to a drink?" she asked rhetorically.

It had taken a long time for her to move on past her binge drinking habits which had gotten her into so much trouble in the past - she still remembered the way she had gone into the station stinking of BO only to be taken and cautioned by Julie Dodson for battering Nick Savage half to death.

As she walked behind Jessica, Rachel's face grimaced slightly, mixing between the still present disgust for what Nick had done to her prior to his death and sadness that she hadn't simply walked away from Nick when she'd discovered the bastard was married, it was something she had regretted for years, and something she had learnt from over the years. If Rachel could go back in time, she would have shaken her younger self and told her not to do it because it would have caused one disaster after another. And boy, there were so many of them - the PNC mess, the court case that was thrown out because she had stupidly told him something that should NEVER have been said, stalking Nick and blackmailing him.

Rachel was so lost in her memories, she didn't notice Jessica push her gently into the passenger seat and take the keys herself, but she did notice when the car jolted and she almost hit her head on the dash. "Jesus!" she cursed before she realised where she was and saw a car that had just shot into their path, and she turned to her DS, blinking in surprise.

"Sorry," Jessica grinned sheepishly. "I didn't see him, the bastard."

A little bit grateful Jessica thought she was stunned by the other car and not something different, Rachel grinned back. "No problem. It happens," she replied before settling herself back into her seat and deciding to pay more attention on the drive to the pub. It wasn't a long journey and the two officers were nearly there, indeed they'd only been halfway there when that other car had almost crashed into them, but on their last leg of the journey Rachel found herself looking at Jessica.

Jessica Daniel was a good looking woman, in many ways she reminded Rachel of herself, of how she had used to be when Gill had invited her into Syndicate 9. And like a mature wine, I've certainly aged well, Rachel thought to herself. Jessica had been in her team for 3 years now, and Rachel had made sure the woman was put in charge of cases to test her proficiency. With Rachel's experience it was better to learn by doing than having people tell you how to do your work, that was something only people could learn by themselves.

Rachel sighed under her breath and looked away, lost in her memories. She wondered how Gill had seen her just before she herself had left, before she thought about Julie….. And Janet. Rachel closed her eyes. Janet had seemed like a new woman after she'd made her decision to leave the job, the same job she had joined just to find out the truth about what had happened to her friend Veronica, and Rachel grimaced as she recalled where that had led to.

Unknown to Rachel, Jessica had noticed her facial expressions, and she was curious about the sadness that had crept up over her face before becoming concerned about the sudden grimace.

"You okay?" Jessica asked her DCI.

Surprised, Rachel turned to her. "What?"

"I asked you if you were okay," Jessica repeated, "you were grimacing."

Rachel blinked and then realised that she had been so lost in her thoughts and her memories, she hadn't realised her emotions had crossed her face. She thought about lying for a second, but then decided not to.

"Oh, I was just thinking," she replied in the hope her airy tone would put Jessica off. She should have known better.

"What about?" Jessica asked.

Jessica's persistence was one of the many reasons besides her being a bloody good copper, smart and stubborn that had attracted Rachel into inviting her to join her team in the first place, but this was one of those times where she wished the younger woman wouldn't pry too much, but she had to admit it was a good question, and considering her mood and how much she now wanted to leave the police, Rachel had to admit that Jessica had a good reason to be curious.

She licked her lips. "I'll tell you when we get to the pub," she said before falling silent. Jessica, naturally and frustratingly enough, tried to find out more details, but Rachel remained silent until the DS finally got the hint.

* * *

At the pub surrounded by her team, Rachel took a moment to sit back in her chair and watch everyone around her. She had fallen silent a few minutes after getting her order - a typicall large glass of red wine, though she knew she would need to get back to her home - and just used the silence to study her team and just reminisce as memories of herself as a DC, later DS, and then DI filled her mind. As the memories swirled around Rachel's mind, she caught sight of Jessica's indiscreet glance, and realised she had to get this over with, but she hated having to break up such a moment for her team.

Rachel cleared her throat and it took a moment for everyone to realise she wanted to get their attention but they quickly shut up. "I've got to tell you all something," she announced.

Jessica, her eyes dancing with laughter at a joke one of her colleagues had told her, though she was curious about Rachel's mood, said, "What is it, boss?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "I'd wanted to tell you this after we'd left the office, but I just wanted some time to really get it into my brain before I said anything. I'm leaving," she said, deciding that like a band aid, the sooner she could get this done with, the better. "I'm leaving the police. Retiring."

The ambient noise in the pub was the same, but for the coppers at the table it was like someone had just dropped them off in a desert. They could not believe what they had just heard.

"W-when did you decide this?" Jessica asked in surprise.

"Didn't you know?" Izzy Diamond asked, surprised Jessica hadn't known herself.

But before Jessica could even reply to the question given by her friend, Rachel got there first. "No, she didn't," she clarified, "I wanted to tell you myself and in a less formal environment than back at the office. Here, we'd have a few drinks, bad ones," she added, hoping to make people laugh, "and also give me a chance to relax. But Jessica didn't know. The only people who knew about my plans until now were my immediate supervisors. And now you know."

The team members shared a look.

"When are you going?"

Rachel had been prepared for the question and answered it promptly. "This year. Don't worry, you'll soon get rid of me soon, but I want to solve a few more cases before I go," she declared.

Jessica looked like she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "But….. I don't know what to say," she said as she tried to wrap her mind around the concept.

Rachel smiled. "I can't stay in the job forever, you know that. If I don't leave soon, I never will."

Hearing that gave Jessica the strength to focus. "When did you decide you wanted to go?"

"Jess!" Dave Rowlands hissed, but Rachel waved it aside. "No, it's a fair question." She went silent for a moment as she tried to think of the right way to put this. "I'm leaving because of the last major case," she decided to say, "but that was only one example; you were all pressured into finding something that would stick after we found those bodies, and I was under pressure by people who just wanted to look good. I didn't join the police to make others look good. I joined because I wanted to make a difference, and I know I have over the years, but now I'm tired. I have also had enough of the politics and dealing with bosses talking about appearances all the time. But on a personal note, I want to try and reach out to my daughter. It might be too late, but I want to try without the pressure of the job getting to me."

Everyone was still taken aback by the speech, but Izzy was still surprised by the announcement. "What will you do when you go?" she asked, worried that Rachel would be lost without the job.

Rachel shrugged. One of the reasons she was always concerned and daunted by retirement was the same concern - what would she do? She wasn't particularly close to her sister's kids, and the less said about her own relationship with Stephanie the better, though she hoped to try to make up for her numerous mistakes and she hoped Stephanie would let her back in.

Jessica had to take her home, something that Rachel was pleased about because it meant she could speak to her DS properly. In the car she wasn't surprised that Jessica found it hard to put her thoughts out of her mind, but Rachel waited to give her DS some time so she could get her act together. When she was younger, she wouldn't have been so patient, but Rachel's patience had been hard won over time. Too bad it wasn't endless.

"Come on, Jessica, spit it out," she said when her patience wore off.

"How come you didn't tell me?'

Rachel knew what the DS was asking, but she didn't want to let on because it made it more real. "Tell you what?"

"That you were leaving," Jessica's voice, while level, was tinged with impatience.

Rachel sighed. "I wasn't sure, but I am now," she replied, "I've been in the Job for a long time, Jess, but I've been finding it harder and harder to adapt to the latest standards. You and the others are okay; you joined the police when those same standards first came into being, but if you're in the Job long enough, you'll probably find it increasingly harder to go on further down the line. But really, I'm just tired. I'm fed up. I joined the police to be an SIO and command teams and solve major cases. I've done that. But I can't stay in the Job forever, besides the stress of some of the last cases is getting to me."

Jessica was surprised by Rachel's explanation, the older woman wasn't really that surprised; she was always short about personal matters.

"What about your daughter?"

"This job has torn down so many of my relationships, in the past, I thought it was worth it; my sister Alison's a wonderful woman, but she's a bit too much, the less said about her annoying family the better, but I didn't plan on my daughter being one of those people I pushed away," Rachel hoped she didn't look like she was about to cry in front of Jessica.

The DS looked at Rachel out of the corner of her eye, thinking of her own relationships with her own family, and how she had pushed them away the longer she had been in the Manchester Met police. She always got exasperated whenever her mum rang her up incessantly, but she hadn't expected her boss to be the same. Jessica had her friends outside the Job, but did she push them away as much as Rachel Bailey did?

Unfortunately, Rachel saw her expression. "Trust me, Jess, while the Job is worth it at times, sometimes it's a good idea not to push people away too hard," she said. It might not be any of her business, but she didn't want this passionate woman to become a shell.

Jessica locked her lips, but she didn't say a word. She just drove.

* * *

As she stood outside the house, Rachel let out a sigh as she spared a moment to wonder if she had the nerve to go through with this. Now the cat was out of the bag, she didn't need to tiptoe around her team anymore about her impending retirement, but she still hadn't let her sister know. The problem was every time she visited her elder sister, especially in recent years, was the reminder the pair of them were not the same people they had been.

When Rachel had been younger, she had gone out of her way to keep her life separate from Alison's. It was just as much a need to keep her life as a copper out of her personal life as much as anything else, as she'd gone through her career she had found like everyone else in her amazing Job that with each case, life became darker.

But in her case, she had another reason to keep her life and Alison separate - while she meant well and Rachel valued Alison, the problem with Alison was she didn't know exactly when to back off. Oh, Rachel understood only too well it was because of their mother who'd fucked off to get away from her family, and only came back when she and Alison were old enough and had jobs of their own she didn't need to do anything except live life getting drunk day in and day out, that Alison had always gone the whole hog to make sure her sister wrapped up warm.

It wasn't until she'd cradled Stephanie in her arms that Rachel realised what Alison meant to her and while her elder sister was such a source of strength, she still wanted Alison to not get in the way.

But she was worried standing out of the house. Ever since Tony had died and Callum and Holly had both moved out on their own, Alison had needed Rachel around more and more, and the only thing that kept their worlds apart had been Rachel's job.

The very thing which had caused her relationship with Stephanie to break up.

Rachel sighed and headed for the door, briefly wondering what type of mood her sister was in as she raised her hand and pressed the doorbell, putting out a very long blast that sounded like a miniature fire bell before she took her hand away, checking her watch idly and timing Alison's journey to the door.

It took Alison only two minutes to arrive at the door, and she blinked through her massive glasses at her. "Rach?" she asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi Ali," Rachel replied, smiling warmly at her. Out of both her siblings, she found it easier to relate to Alison better than she had Dom. While her elder sister had pissed her off over the years with her fussy attitude, she had learnt to appreciate it as she'd grown older herself. "Mind if I come in?"

Predictably Alison smiled and stood aside so she could step inside. After kicking off her shoes, Rachel followed her sister into the living room and she sat down while Alison went to the kitchen automatically calling out, "Do you want a tea?"

Rachel wasn't particularly thirsty, but she decided it would definitely help their talk if they both had a cuppa. "Sure, thanks," she said.

While Alison was busy in the kitchen, Rachel took the few minutes looking around the living room, not moving a muscle from where she was sitting, using her long years of being a professional copper to take things in. Alison hadn't decorated this room or indeed the rest of the house for a long time, but truthfully home decoration wasn't something she or Alison had really cared about unlike other families who didn't seem to be able to go through a year without making a few changes here and there. Their lives after Sharon had left them had pushed such trivialities aside and ensured more immediate matters became a priority.

Indeed, Rachel had only decorated her flat the one time and she'd left it at that, comfortable with the old appearance of the place as time went on, and she hadn't really done anything to encourage Stephanie to care about it either.

The only differences she could see in this room were the lack of school things or other trash produced by Callum and Holly that were always on display whenever she'd popped round. Rachel spotted the old looking laptop and TV and smiled before Alison came into the room, carrying two mugs of steaming tea, putting one close to where she herself would be sitting on the sofa while passing the second one over to Rachel before she quickly sat down, well as quickly as she could considering she wasn't as young as she had been.

Rachel, who had been expecting the usual gossip and idle chit chat, was surprised by what Alison said next. "Okay, Rachel, why are you here?"

Unnerved by how much Alison seemed to be mirroring her own bluntness, though she wondered if her loneliness had made her a bit edgy, Rachel decided to reply in the same vein. She had considered telling Alison why she was at her house on one of her rare visits after a short while, but maybe she should just get down to business.

"I'm retiring from the police," she said, and she had to hide the smile that was threatening to creep across her face when she saw the surprised expression appear on Alison's face, she hadn't expected that.

"You're what?!" Alison whispered in shock, her surprise being the only thing stopping her from truly speaking in a louder volume.

"I'm retiring from the police," Rachel repeated, "I've had enough, Ali. I just want to get out."

Alison tried to speak, tried to ask her usual pointlessly stupid questions, but she couldn't stop herself from babbling and getting her words mixed up before she stopped and tried again. "When did you decide to do this, then?"

Rachel sighed as she took a sip of her tea. "Only recently, but its been coming for a long time," she replied after she'd lowered the mug. "The Job is changing Alison, and I'm just having trouble keeping up, but I'm just sick and tired of playing the same pointless games with the higher ups. On one of the last major cases, they were more interested in looking good than tying a big ribbon on the murders of more than 7 people, and they kept pushing me and my team into getting it sorted out rather than actually letting me take my time; if there's one thing I've learnt during my career, its to take your time and trace every lead carefully."

"That makes sense," Alison said thoughtfully ,even if she already knew that was how her sister worked, and how she had been trained to think, "but I thought you already had those issues?"

"I do," Rachel replied sharply to let her sister know she had once been capable of handling it, "but my present problem is over the years the higher ups have gained more and more interest in how the cases are worked, and I can't take that kind of scrutiny anymore. I have to fight one unnecessary battle with them after another while keeping the team together, making sure the interviews are done correctly and being able to spot things that don't ring true. Lately the cases have been getting more scrutiny, and it's not just me, Alison, there are other syndicates and teams all over the city who are following the same procedure."

"And you want to leave?"

Rachel nodded. "I'm tired. I want to get out before I go mad," she replied.

Alison nodded before she neatly moved the subject on, clearly she wasn't going to try to ask about the intricacies of Police politics, not that Rachel was surprised - Alison had problems understanding the types of people who ran the government, never mind the police.

"So, what are you going to do when you leave? When are you going to do when you leave, you're not the type to do nothing after spending most of your life putting criminals away?"

"In reverse order, I haven't got a clue what I'm going to do, but I think I'll find something, and answering your second question, I'll be retiring in a few months, " Rachel replied while trying to keep the pride away from her voice as she remembered all the scum she'd put behind bars while feeling bittersweet about it all; she had wanted to put the bad guys away for as long as she could remember, but now she'd achieved it she wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

"Why a few months?" Alison asked quizzically.

"Because I want to finish a few cases first," Rachel replied, "that way I can draw a line under my career."

It was like history was repeating itself, Rachel mused to herself. Gill had done exactly the same thing, but unlike her old mentor Rachel didn't plan on repeating the same mistake of drinking, especially at the magistrates court…. She pushed those memories aside, locking them in a box where she stored memories of all the shit that had happened over the years; Sharon upping and leaving, Dom being arrested and sent to prison - twice, her marriage to Sean which had fallen apart, her friendship with Janet breaking up around the time because she hadn't been able to control herself, and so many other things.

After the thought had materialised in her mind, Rachel truly hoped that her retirement wasn't a total mirror of Gill's; she might not be drinking to relieve the stress like her old SIO, but that didn't mean things couldn't go wrong in the future….

* * *

Author's note - Jessica, Izzy, Rowlands - they're all characters out of the amazing police detective fiction series written by Kerry Wilkinson. The DS Jessica Daniel series is something I got into over the past year, and I'm currently reading Playing with Fire. I was just struck by the similarities between Rachel and Jessica; both female detectives, stubborn, often risking their careers, and make mistakes.

I just had to write her in my story. Hope you like it.


	3. Chapter 3 Wanting a quiet retirement

I don't own Scott & Bailey. Too bad, eh?

"Wanting a Quiet Retirement"

The cemetery where Julie Dodson was buried was quite a distance out from the station, but Rachel didn't really care about that - true, it might take her a while to return to the station, but she had faith in Jessica to hold the fort while she was gone. Rachel felt better than she had done in a long while, she was still under a little pressure by the higher ups and her supervisors to solve cases before she left, but she didn't feel as depressed as she had been since Stephanie had moved out.

Thinking about her daughter made Rachel sigh sadly. She had been hoping for her daughter to reply to her messages, but Stephanie hadn't and Rachel was beginning to suspect her daughter wanted nothing to do with her, but she knew it was her own fault. Rachel knew that she would have to confront the girl, and she was not looking forward to that.

As she found a quiet parking space as close to Julie's plot as she could, Rachel wondered how her old mentor after Gill and Janet would have felt if she had learnt about the irresistible urge to retire, but Julie had become bored by the police and she had become increasingly tired of the changing procedural rules as Rachel had become recently.

Leaving her car and grabbing the flowers she'd bought from the florists on her way to the cemetery, Rachel paused to pull her coat collar higher - why was it every time you visited one of these places, it was always so cold? - and she walked towards the grave. When she arrived she sighed sadly at the grave, wishing Julie was still around. Rachel did a bit of tidying up around the grave, but she didn't have the time or the tools to properly clear the place up.

When she was finished she stood over the grave. "Hi, Julie," she said quietly. "I know I'm not the best at coming here to visit, but I'm here now, that's what's important, right?"

Rachel chuckled to herself for a second. "Anyway, if you see Gill, tell her I said thanks for coming and telling me I should retire when I thought it through."

"Well, you were bloody miserable, I'm surprised it didn't occur to you sooner, Sherlock," a familiar voice said.

Rachel stiffened and she turned. "Are you guys going to appear whenever I talk to you?" she asked.

Standing behind her was Julie Dodson, not the old and almost decrepit woman that Rachel remembered seeing her as before she died, but the Julie Dodson that Rachel had known best as a DS and then later a DI. She looked younger, and she wore those ridiculous heels she had been renowned for.

Julie shrugged. "I dunno, what do you think?" she asked with her usual sarcastic snark.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm beginning to think you are going to just appear," she replied.

Julie snorted. "Definitely. How are you, Rachel?"

"I'm okay," Rachel said, adding, "I'm retiring from the job I've spent the best part of my life working on, and I'm apparently seeing ghosts of my friends. So yeah, I'm doing okay.'

Julie smirked.

"How about you?"

"Ah, I'm doing great, thanks."

Rachel looked at her strangely for a second. "You're not really here. You're just a figment of my imagination, but why are you here speaking to me?"

Julie sighed. "I thought you might want a talk. I'm proud of you, Rachel. You've given the police your all for such a long time. It was a good time for you to leave. I felt the same way, so did Janet and Gill."

Rachel smiled at her but it fell off her face, and she headed over to a nearby bench. Julie followed her over and sat down next to her. Rachel eyed her for a second, seeing the solemn look in the older (dead) woman's eyes and followed her gaze over to the gravestone bearing her name. Rachel wondered how it must feel to look on your own tombstone and realise you were dead.

"What's it like, being dead?" Rachel asked before she mentally kicked herself for asking such an insensitive question.

Julie spared her one of her irritated glares that told you she was wondering whether you were worth spending time breathing the same air as her but she answered the question regardless. "It's liberating," Julie replied (Rachel wondered if she was indeed seeing the ghost of one of her old bosses, or if it was her own mind playing a game with her because she had always considered death to be a release from the mundanity and irritation of life), "just like retirement is."

Rachel nodded while she considered her reply. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"Don't worry about it," Julie waved her hand. "How do you feel about retirement? When I was alive, retirement was the last thing you wanted to do.'

"I got older," Rachel replied shortly before she looked away. "I also had to deal with the idiot politicians who run the police force who have been tearing it to pieces since you retired."

"Don't remind me," Julie rolled her eyes as she remembered the signs that she'd noticed long ago.

"I think you and Gill saw the signs better than I did," Rachel said.

Julie chuckled. "Rachel, you were a DI at the time, you had just been promoted and you hadn't yet experienced much of what the higher-ups go through, the decisions which are made and all the meetings that go on. You couldn't have known, but if you had what would you have done? Personally, I couldn't see you shrugging your shoulders and just turning your back. You'd spent a long time working hard, you were hardly the type to throw that all away because you saw that police work is more politics than action."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "There were times," she admitted to Julie, thankful that the woman was dead and probably nothing more than a figment of her imagination, "where I have wondered if I should have signed up for the Army, or something along those lines. At least I wouldn't have had much fucking shit shoved down my throat."

"If you'd done that the police would have lost a damn good copper and detective," Julie pointed out. "You might've been rough around the edges, and that mess with your first case as an Acting DI nearly brought you down, but you have definitely become a good copper."

Rachel didn't like the reminder of that first case where she had been in a position of actual authority. She had spent a long time going over where she had gone wrong and why she had had problems. One of the biggest problems had been her inexperience. But she had been furious with Mitch after he'd failed to let her know he'd mislaid the casebook.

It had taken Rachel a long time to realise that she had been promoted to command the same team she had been a part of under Gill Murray's leadership for a few years. That had been the biggest mistake, but when she had realised it she had requested a transfer to a different team so then she could make her mark with a new band of people. Janet had been upset by that, but she had agreed with her after Rachel had given her her reasons.

"Thanks, Julie," she whispered.

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Three months later.

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Rachel was shaking with anger as she held her mobile against her ear. "Repeat that again please Jessica," she growled into the phone.

On the other end of the line, Jessica repeated dutifully but Rachel could hear the way her DS was trying hard to maintain her composure. "Sandra Wong pulled a knife on us," Jessica said, "but she didn't listen to us when we told her we only wanted to speak to her. She ran off, but the woman slipped and stabbed herself with the knife."

Rachel closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair as she struggled to hold back the urge to scream and shout. "What did the Risk Assessment say? Didn't you take into account Sandra Wong was mentally ill and could go off like a firecracker?" Rachel asked.

The silence on the other end made Rachel sigh. "You did make a Risk Assessment, didn't you?"

"Boss, we've been asking people questions all day, trying to track down the witnesses to the murder of Sally Jenkins but when we got close to Sandra Wong everyone told us she was gentle-," Jessica tried to say but Rachel interrupted her harshly. "So you decided, in your infinite wisdom, that you weren't going to bother, even though you had the intelligence? You were told of her mental woes, Jess, but instead of planning for every contingency you fucked it up."

Rachel growled into the phone, hoping the sound kept Jessica from interrupting her. "Where is Sandra now, and you had better tell me you are with her?"

"I am," Jessica said quickly, sounding pleased she had something good to report. "I've left other members of my team outside her flat. I was hoping to get it checked out."

Rachel closed her eyes. "I'll see about getting a search warrant, though I'm not sure how I'm going to report this disaster. Sandra Wong was an important player in this case, and you knew it. You knew it was potentially dangerous and yet you still made no plan to counter it. I'm disappointed with you. Stay with Sandra for now."

With that, Rachel put the phone down and let out a stifled scream of frustration. Why couldn't this have happened three months ago? It would have made her life feel better and easier if she had had a problem months ago instead of now. Rachel closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down, it wouldn't do any good to lose her control now.

This case was complicated and Rachel's syndicate had been working for two days to piece the puzzle together, and they had made progress. Three days ago a woman called Sally Jenkins had been murdered while out with friends, who didn't see or hear anything though Rachel didn't believe them so she had had them questioned time and time again. But while Sally's friends hadn't seen or heard anything, they had been in a place surrounded by CCTV cameras. The team had had a lot to go on, especially when they had identified Sandra Wong as one of the attackers. An ill woman with a history of paranoid schizophrenia, Rachel had told her officers to be careful with her.

Risk Assessments. Why did this have to happen, and why did it have to remind her of those final days where Gill's secret drinking came out with Evie Pritchard's following complaint? Rachel had been in the police long enough to recognise karma, or something like it existed in any case.

She had seen too many cases where mistakes came back around and bit you on the arse, and the mistake with the Risk Assessment when she had been an inexperienced DS had been a long time coming back to hit her full on.

Rachel too fired up to stay in her office, leapt out of her chair, shaking with annoyance, and stalked out of the office to head for her car. She needed to drive around a bit so then she could work off some of her anger. There were times, like this, where she wished she had something like a gym or a kickboxing ring to work through her frustrations, and she had dozens of them from time to time.

How could Jessica be so stupid? She thought to herself when she parked the car in a fairly uncrowded street. She'd been driving around and around for the last ten minutes to work through her anger, and she felt she'd succeeded.

Rachel shut off the engine and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes wearily. "God, this brings back memories," she whispered to herself.

"Good, they should," a familiar voice said next to her. Rachel sighed and turned to face the ghost of Gill.

But instead of her familiar "I told you so face" she was wearing a more sympathetic expression.

"I know, Gill, I know," Rachel groused.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Rachel, but its good to learn from them. You should know that, you know like I do a mistake or an accident arises during an investigation."

"You weren't like this when I made that mistake," Rachel pointed out, remembering Gill's last case; she had been doing that a great deal recently, thinking about the last cases Janet, Gill, and Julie had worked on before their individual retirements.

"Er, for good reason," Gill's ghost pointed out sternly with a slight hint of sarcasm at the beginning that just fizzled out as she got going, "My DS, who was inexperienced in that role but should have known better than she did went and made a big mistake that not only put the case into jeopardy, but it resulted in the death of a potential suspect in murder investigation."

Rachel closed her eyes. It had taken her a very long time to move beyond the point where she had been incredibly stupid. She had learnt from her mistakes from the Evie Pritchard slavery case and had used that experience to become better…. and then when she had been promoted to Acting DI she needed to learn new lessons, particularly when the case nearly fell apart and she had nearly been killed with Stephanie still in her womb because of some sick fuckers playing a truly disgusting game online and giving into their fantasies.

To make matters worse, she was responsible for Mitch being killed in the line of duty. Rachel had never forgiven herself for the death of someone whom she had known for a long time. Mitch and she had been buddies, they had solved cases together, spoken to suspects together. He had sat next to her during interviews, and he had always been prepared for a fight whenever one of the suspects being interviewed became unstable. His wife had been angry with her, and she had let her be angry, feeling that she deserved it after what she'd inadvertently done.

"You made up for that, Rachel," Gill's ghost went on, more softly now, "you solved that case. At least you are nothing like me; you're not one of those legions of stressed-out coppers who struggled to cope and turned to a bottle to see them through."

Rachel winced. In her younger days she had been famous for her poor judgement when it came to alcohol consumption, and more than once it had landed her in the shit, usually right up to her neck. But she had known her limits, known never to drink on duty. Nah, she would arrive stinking of BO and Christ knew what else.

But she knew what Gill was getting at. She had seen that bottle on Gill's desk that night, so long ago Rachel could barely remember what the case at the time was all about, but she remembered keeping a close watch over her afterwards and informing Janet, who in turn told Julie. The avalanche really started when Gill sneaked a quick swig at the magistrates' court 'cos the bastard there let everyone off regardless of what they did.

It wouldn't have been a problem if not for Evie Pritchard attacking Rachel as she was about to leave the court. There were many times since then that Rachel wished she had been more alert even if she had been on her phone at the time, speaking to Janet and letting her know of the magistrate's decision, but she hadn't.

Gill had leapt to her defence - that was one of the many things she loved about the woman, really - even if you pissed her off, she would always be there for you. Unfortunately, because of the swig, her breath reeked of gin and Evie had detected it instantly and she had capitalised on it.

Evie posted a video on the net telling her of her 'woes,' saying to everyone the Manchester Met police had basically treated her like shit, that they were corrupt but worse - she had let it out Gill was drinking, and she made a complaint.

The case had nearly fallen through, but if it hadn't been for some quick developments, the case would never have been solved and Evie would've been let off to carry on with her illegal slavery operation.

Rachel had sworn to never let something similar happen to her, and she was always very careful. "I almost was, remember?" she muttered. "Don't you remember that time Julie had to arrest me after Nick was attacked?"

"Okay, you did get drunk, but you were not stupid enough to take swigs while on duty like I was," Gill retorted. "Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get round to the hospital."

Rachel sighed. "Great," she whispered, "she's dead and she is still giving orders."

"What was that, Sherlock?" Gill barked, but Rachel snickered when she heard the mocking grin in her voice. She knew Rachel was only joking around with her.

By the time Rachel was on the road again, Gill Murray was gone.

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Please let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4 It's far from being all over

It's far from being all over.

3 weeks, 1 day, 13 hours, and 10 minutes, that was what Rachel made it.

Three weeks and she had been out of the Job for that length of time, and she was already beginning to go mad without the routine that she had made of her life previously.

As she sat in her flat, drinking some lemonade which befitted the hot weather outside, Rachel wondered what she was going to do now. She had been doing the same thing for a while. At first she had gone on binge drinking sprees (her mother's death and how she had virtually drunk herself to death after tricking her that she had turned over a new leaf when Sean had told her that he had been keeping in touch with her ever since she had left her family, still haunted her, but not as much as how she had gotten drunk and Taisie had found her and Kevin going at it in the house, so she needed to be careful), spending time with Alison and her kids (she had always more or less avoided those two, now she had little common ground with them), watching movies, going shopping for bits and pieces, though it was usually just books and DVDs and a few CDs, going out to the gym, or just wandering around Manchester, dreaming that she was free at last.

No more autopsies, and spending a day going around stinking like disinfectant after spending hours watching cold, dead, bodies with their flesh and bones frozen stiff in rigour mortis, watching as their bodies are cut up, examined as thoroughly as a swarm of flies feasting and laying eggs on a rotting body left in the sun.

No more having to cope with the higher ups putting pressure on you to solve the cases as nicely and as politically correct as possible, no more having to justify the choices you need to make in order to solve a case, nor having to look to the potential repercussions of looking into suspects that have….something that the politicians in the Manchester met police did not like.

No more press releases - Rachel had always hated being in front of the cameras, but she had always hated it whenever there cases someone in an investigation passed information onto the press, and ever since that mess with the Bevan investigation after it was revealed Kevin had been the one to pass that sensitive information to the newspapers after Gill had insulted and hurt him after he learnt about his performance in the DS exams, Rachel had learnt over the years to be very careful how she treated those beneath her.

Okay, granted, she had not exactly been thoughtful towards those in Syndicate 9 when she had been given the acting DI post to deal with that online game, but that was because at the time she had been out of her depth when it came to command; Gill had taught her the ins and the outs of how to investigate a crime, she hadn't spent much time giving her advice on how she should lead. That had been a big disaster, but the case had been going so well before Mitch's casebook had gone missing.

It took time but Rachel eventually learnt from her mistakes, and a few years after she had dealt with that online game and delivered her baby and she had gained a new maturity to herself and had begun thinking more outside of the box and being more adult than the old Rachel Bailey attitude she had had where she was forever tripping up over her own feet.

Having Stephanie had done wonders for Rachel.

With a baby, she had realised that there was more to the world than what she had perceived and she had gained a bit of wisdom much like Janet had. Thinking about her dear friend made her close her eyes in sorrow.

"Stop it, Rachel," a familiar voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up.

Janet Scott was standing there, dressed as smartly as she remembered her.

"Hi, Jan," Rachel whispered.

"Hey, now what's happened, kid? Usually, you're louder than that?" There was a mischievous smirk on Janet's face, and Rachel laughed; even now Janet had a way of making her smile when she was at her lowest, much like whenever she herself helped Janet get through her own problems.

"I was just thinking," Rachel said, though she knew this was not Janet.

"About what?" Janet asked, moving slowly over to the couch to sit next to her.

"Everything. I mean, I've retired now. I miss the job," Rachel said; the last bit wasn't exactly a confession since she knew Janet would know precisely what she meant. Rachel had been there for all three of the trio when they had retired. Gill had been private about her problems, but Julie had been more….lost, and Janet had had troubles of her own, Taisie and Elise had made it incredibly hard for her to form new relationships with them since Janet had always had the stresses of the police.

Rachel had come to realise that, aside from the occasional rare case, like Sammy had with Gill, who had risen to become a good DI himself though Rachel had no idea for sure if he planned to go that much further with his career, the kids of police officers would never understand the profession. Elise, Taisie, and sadly Stephanie hadn't understood it.

And unfortunately, as much as Rachel had done her best to be there for her daughter while she had been growing up, there had been a rift between her and Stephanie. Typical stuff, really - Rachel had been too busy working, solving a crime, or she had suddenly realised something important about a case she had been working on, forcing her to lose track of time.

The experiences had made Stephanie take a look at the police as a career and found that she wanted nothing to do with the role. Rachel hadn't been offended. The realisation had come after Rachel had been injured when she had been part of a different unit, and her daughter had been a kid at the time.

The experience had made her daughter realise she would much rather be something completely different, and Rachel hadn't faulted her daughter for that decision. Rachel sighed and looked at her hands. She and Stephanie…. they always fought. Always. They loved each other, but ever since her daughter had hit her teens, it had been a virtual all-out war.

They were simply too much alike.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Oh, right. In her reverie, Rachel had forgotten Janet's ghost was there. "Oh, I was just lost in thought," she admitted, not bothering to downplay it by being difficult or bolshy. "I was thinking about Stephanie."

"Ah," Janet replied. There was nothing else she could say, she knew the problems Rachel had had with her daughter.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes. I want to reach out to her, but I don't… I just don't know."

The two were silent - whether because Janet was a ghost, a figment made by Rachel's imagination and waiting for the brunette to say something meaningful, was debatable as they thought about the problem. But then Rachel changed the subject. "Jan, when you left the police, did you feel lost?'

"Of course I did, you know I did. Rachel, I'm not really here - I'm not really here, but I think I'm part of your mind that tells you not to do stuff and give you advice. Just think of me as your conscience."

Rachel felt a little sad at the admission - she had hoped, well a part of her had hoped, Janet, Julie and Gill were actually ghosts, but she had guessed they were actually figments of her imagination. It would have been brilliant if they had been ghosts, but okay.

"I'm just lost," she said; even if the Janet here was not the real Janet she could still be a second opinion. "What am I going to do for the rest of my life? I've spent my entire adult life as a copper. I don't know how to adjust."

The image of Janet rolled her eyes sympathetically. "I know the feeling. You could try finding hobbies, little things to do. You know as well as I do that they can speed things up, but I don't think that will be enough for you, right Sherlock."

Rachel eyed the ghost curiously. She remembered how in the car Gill's ghost had called her that familiar nickname, but this time there was a bit more emphasis on the name. "Janet, why did you emphasise Sherlock when you just spoke to me?" she asked bluntly.

Janet grinned cheekily. "C'mon, figure it out."

Rachel went silent for a second, and then she realised what Janet was getting at. "You want me to become a private detective?"

"Why not? Rachel, you're bored. You have plenty of time on your hands. But you've got no direction. Rachel, don't let yourself become bored like I did," Janet said the last part seriously after spending the last minute being passionate about delivering her points. "I didn't want to become a private detective since I was trying hard to not be a copper after leaving the police when I retired. Gill wasn't bothered, but I was; she wanted to distract herself from growing bored, but I had my grandkids to do that for me."

Rachel grinned, but she became more thoughtful as she considered the idea of becoming a private detective, and she put considerable thought into the idea.

It wasn't a far-fetched idea, many retired police officers became investigators or security consultants because they couldn't get away from the job, and many of them succeeded because they had years of experience and judgement. Rachel herself had plenty of experience, and so it wouldn't be hard for her to set up a little firm.

Maybe she wouldn't investigate current things, or maybe she would, but there were so many possibilities. Rachel had always been interested in cold cases, it came from that time where Janet had roped her into the death of her old childhood friend, Veronica Hastings….

 _Janet smiled as she came downstairs and found Rachel already sitting at her table, going through a load of papers she recognised vaguely as what she'd collected on the Veronica Hastings murder; she hadn't had time to go through the collection of papers and documents and theories Tom Walters had collected and pieced together all these years since, but she could see a few clues here and there._

" _You're up early," she commented._

 _Her friend jumped a bit and she smiled back. "I just wanted to have a decent breakfast - I'm usually on the go, but last night," she paused to yawn before she went on, "I was studying these. Hope you don't mind."_

" _I told you that you could," Janet chided, sitting down; she'd get some tea in a mo. "What do you think?"_

" _About the Veronica Hastings murder? I don't know; I mean, the only signs of physical contact was her squashed chest, but that is about all they had to go on," Rachel replied._

 _Janet frowned; ever since she had heard about how Veronica had died, she had been curious about what could have caused it._

" _But one of the problems I can see with what you've got, is it's mostly guesswork," Rachel went on, "I can't see any sign at the moment of what could have caused all that.."_

 _Janet had to admit she had a point. She had gone over Tom Walter's files for a while. He was thorough, she had to admit that, but what upset her the most was there wasn't anything there that she could find, even after all of this time. One of the biggest problems with cold cases was over the years, some of the documents went missing and sometimes they were vital._

 _Tom had had a point about cold cases; they could be lost, or very little could be found over the years. God alone knew how much information on this particular cold case had been lost because of a fire, or a flood, or because some of the documents had been lost because of the carelessness of people moving the files, and when someone else picked up the papers they didn't know where to put it, and so they either put them into a different file to clean up, or they threw them in the bin._

" _I have to admit, cold cases do look interesting," Rachel went on._

 _Janet frowned as her mind processed the moment, the reverse, returning to the land of the living, and Rachel's comment. "I know they are," she replied before she realised when her mind had returned from la-la land, and she had a second to go over what Rachel had said. "Oh, you're thinking of going into cold cases?" Janet realised, feeling a bit sad since MIT would miss out, but with cold cases, Rachel would probably do brilliantly-_

" _No, I don't mean that, but I would like to try my hand at them," Rachel replied._

" _What interests you the most?"_

" _Well, it would be interesting, I mean think about it; crimes going back years before forensics, computers, the internet, labs and decent autopsies where people have a better knowledge of the body," Rachel went on, "and in the case of the 20th century where crimes aren't even reported, or those that are unsolved either because of poor police work, or lack of shreds of evidence or there was something else no-one else can fathom… I dunno, I'd like to give it a shot. But I still want to be good at MIT."_

Rachel had later asked Gill if it was possible to get a bit more understanding about cold cases, and her old SIO had been more than happy to help her gain a bit more understanding. The problem with cold cases particularly those which had been buried on shelves or in old computer files was that you could see time was going fast, suspects and actual perpetrators lived on and died. For years people who had committed crimes had gotten away with the whole thing because they had gotten lucky either because the investigation had led down into a dead end, evidence got lost because of bent coppers or because the coppers involved suffered from misfortune, or because simple mistakes had been made.

Rachel knew better than most that no copper was infallible, they were still human. Gill Murray had had 30 years experience, and yet she had made several mistakes during her last year, but what about the previous years? She had needed to rise up through the ranks, just like they all did, but none of them - Gill, Julie, and Janet - had been flawless.

Janet had made mistakes as well, dozens of them, well they all had during those years they'd worked together.

In the case of cases that had run out of steam, Rachel wasn't sure.

There were many things that could go wrong if she began taking on cold cases and tried to work on them solo unless she formed or joined a group that solved them; they shouldn't be hard to find. All she would need to do was type in a well-worded search on the internet for the Manchester met area, contact them, tell them she was an ex-copper now recently retired with decades of experience. They should snap her up instantly, especially since she had made the connections a long time ago to find the right kind of unsolved crimes to keep her occupied.

But at the time Rachel hadn't considered joining a little group, but now she had thought about it she was putting considerable thought into it, but what if she couldn't find such a group? Oh well, she would still have the PI job to look forward too. Sure, the prospect of following people around, particularly husbands or wives who were being unfaithful to their spouses seemed mundane, but for someone like Rachel, who had spent a whole career catching and interrogating criminals who had slit the throats of their victims, or committed other acts of brutality a mundane member of the public would never see outside of a movie or TV show, it was almost painful.

Then again, Rachel that when she did become a private investigator anyone would want to come to her concerning a murder - they had the police for that, and the police had resources she would simply not have access too.

Rachel took a deep breath and looked around herself. The image of Janet was gone, she was alone, but then again she had already known that, but it was still depressing her friend hadn't been there. It had shattered Rachel inside for months when Janet had died, she would have given anything to see her again, even if she were a ghost.

"Miss you, Jan," she whispered with a sigh, wondering to herself philosophically if that was what being a ghost entailed; nothing physical, no wind, no chill in the air, no strange sounds, but something simpler, something in the mind.

The doorbell rang.

Rachel sat up with a frown, who could that be? She wasn't expecting anything or anyone unless of course, Alison had decided to drop in on her, see what she was doing; she had realised very quickly that with her excuse of always being busy at the police no longer working, Alison no longer had any reason not to stay away.

Still she stood up and walked to the front door, her mind going through the possible list of people who could be outside her home at this time of night, cautiously she opened the door when she discounted most of them; Jessica and the others had their own careers and they probably had their hands full, if their new SIO was in command now, she didn't know the details, and so they would have their hands too full to disturb her.

Taisie and Elise had their own jobs, and Callum and Holly would not do it; she had driven too many wedges into her family-

She opened the door and gaped in surprise when she saw who it was.

"Steph?"

00000000000000000000000000000

Stephanie Bailey smiled awkwardly at her mother. With her long, dark hair and her brown eyes, her height and build she was a dead ringer for her mother, and Stephanie had inherited many of her mother's traits and habits, much to the chagrin of several people, including her Aunt Alison.

Rachel was proud of her daughter since Stephanie had managed, as far as she knew, to bypass the grief that came with the excessive drinking habits that had plagued her mother and grandmother, and she had successfully become a nurse at the hospital.

Stephanie had learnt early on that she didn't want to have anything to do with the police, and Rachel wondered if her daughter had seen something about the profession that she hadn't seen herself, because she had always had an aversion to the police, she hated talking about it, she hated talking about the cases, everything.

"Hi, mum," Stephanie whispered. "Can I come in?"

Rachel quickly stepped out of the way, "Of course you can, love. Do you really need to ask?" she said, hoping that this meeting with her daughter and only child didn't end up being an absolute disaster like last time.

When Stephanie was sitting on the sofa with her own cup of tea, Rachel sat in her armchair. For a long moment, neither spoke as if they were unsure how to begin. Stephanie sighed. She loved her mother but she was also infuriating, but then again she had to admit to herself that she shared many of Rachel's traits.

They were too much alike.

"I spoke to Auntie Alison, she told me you were retiring," Stephenie whispered.

Rachel sighed, envying her sister's gift for speaking to her daughter when she couldn't, but she wasn't surprised. She had made it clear to Alison she was going to retire, and that all her attempts to speak to Stephanie had resulted in a failure. Rachel had always had problems learning from her mistakes; her biggest had been when she had fucked Kevin and the other time when she had stalked Nick Savage all those years ago. It had taken a lot for her to grow up.

When she had become a parent herself, Rachel had found her life being juggled between caring for her daughter and being a copper.

Sometimes Rachel wished at the time that she had not been promoted so quickly. When she had been a DC she had had enough time on her hands, and she could have used that time wisely, but when she had taken her DS exams she had needed to buckle down and see that she couldn't do what she had done in the past - mess up unintentionally, and suffer the consequences. Unfortunately, and she had only seen this later, she had been promoted too fast.

Stephanie had been a one night stand, but Rachel had never regretted having a child, especially after what happened with the unborn baby she had had after that tryst with Nick, but Stephanie had made it clear she didn't want to be a copper. Rachel had not really minded. Stephanie's life was hers to live.

"I have retired," Rachel replied with a smile, wondering what Stephanie would make of the news.

Stephanie smiled, but suddenly she looked back pointedly. "Aunt Alison wonders if you're going to become a Private detective," she said.

Rachel winced, but Stephanie instantly put her at her ease. "It's okay mum, I don't have problems with them because they deal with things that are more closer to the real world," she said.

Rachel bridled a little bit at that, but she kept her mouth closed.

Unfortunately, Stephanie realised she had touched a nerve. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong," she apologised quietly, looking abashed. "I know how much it meant to you."

Relaxing and slightly mollified, for now, Rachel took a sip of her tea. It was almost cold, but it was still refreshing. "So how is it going with you?"

Why did Stephanie look awkward all of a sudden, Rachel wondered to herself.

She got her answer a moment later when Stephanie took out a familiar looking card…

Rachel gasped in surprise when her eyes studied the scan photo, and she looked up at her daughter, who was looking back at her awkwardly. "You're….?" her voice trailed off, this was too much for her to take in.

Stephanie nodded. "Three months along," she said in the same tone.

"Who's the father?" Rachel's voice had changed, becoming more challenging, more protective.

Stephanie looked annoyed but she replied. "Another doctor," she replied, "but he was moving to another city, so we had a late night stand." She shrugged. "I thought about marriage, but," she shook her head, "I can't see it, mum."

Rachel understood. She had realised not long - about a minute - after she and Sean had married that she wasn't the marrying type. It looked like it was genetic.

But what was important now was she had retired from the police and she and her daughter had a chance to repair their relationship.

"Mum, why did you retire from the police?" Stephanie asked.

Rachel was a bit upset about the question since it went back to a taboo subject that Stephanie really did not like, but she answered the question anyway.

"I left because I was tired," she began honestly. "I had been waking up to go to work every day, dealing with the same people over and over again, but also dealing with police officers who seemed more like politicians, having to constantly check and double check my words and my actions. It just went on and on. One of the problems with rising through the ranks is that you become more bogged down by politics. But I was getting tired of the job, and the stresses, having to lead a team, having to put up with their behaviour day after day…," she shook her head. "I decided it was a good as time as any to leave, while I still had my brains intact."

She chuckled a little bit at first to take the mickey out of herself.

Stephanie smiled back, and for the first time in a long while, she hoped their relationship became more amicable. When Rachel had been pregnant, she might have been bolshy, a bit careless about the baby and had endangered their lives during her first case as acting DI, but deep down she had put a lot of thought into the pregnancy.

She had remembered her own relationship to Sharon, but she also remembered how it had fallen apart. Rachel had sworn never to let her relationship with Stephanie fall apart in the same manner. But their relationship had suffered because of her job, something she had seen but hoped it wouldn't have happened, and as she had hoped when she had decided to retire Stephanie seemed willing to give her another chance.

Rachel only hoped that when her grandchild came along she didn't screw anything up there.

The End.


End file.
